


bluebirds and i

by waterlit



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Jittery Zuko, Love, Marriage Proposal, Romance, a time of anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24575206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterlit/pseuds/waterlit
Summary: At the height of a plague, Katara’s ship was quarantined at sea for the requisite 40 days, and Zuko sailed out nightly to speak to her.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 75





	bluebirds and i

I expect you. I thought one night it was you

at the base of the drive, you at the foot of the stairs,

you in a shiver of light, but each time

leaves in wind revealed themselves,

the retreating shadow of a fox, daybreak.

We expect you, cat and I, bluebirds and I, the stove.

(excerpt from Lisa Olstein's poem Dear One Absent This Long While)

* * *

It had been three years after the war and the tension was dying down although it would take decades for the complacency of peace to settle across the land and for a new generation untouched by war to strengthen alliances held together for now only by the signatures of monarchs and the memories of loss and tragedy.

Zuko had had a tiring summer, but autumn—or what passed for autumn in the Fire Nation—was coming and the wind was less scorching now in the mornings, and the sun set earlier—and _Agni_ , Katara was finally on her way, thank the spirits.

In his study and standing in front of the ornate fireplace, Zuko unfolded Katara’s letter and reread her words for the third time that day. _I’ve been invited to the banquet_ , she had written, _and King Kuei expects me to attend_.

_I wish you didn’t have to attend and you could sail over here right now_ , Zuko had written that morning. He hoped she had received his letter.

* * *

In the third year of the reign of Fire Lord Zuko, the Earth King threw a banquet for the Earth Kingdom nobility.

It was a banquet to be remembered in the years to come—not for the various delicacies served up by Kuei’s multitude of chefs (though there were indeed many delicacies cooked in the most modern of manners)—and not for the fine wine (though there was indeed fine mead requisitioned from Kuei’s wine cellar)—and not for the handsomeness of the nobles gathered there (though there were indeed many valiant lords and ladies of great beauty gathered there).

The banquet was remembered because, in the midst of great pomp and pageantry, Kuei clutched at his stiff collar, choked on a succulent slice of turtleduck, and fell over, upsetting most of the food and fine china on the royal table.

His legs and hands twitched like a bloated spider caught in its own web. No one bent down to help the King, but a courtier gestured for the Healer and physician to be called. Unfortunately the King was quite dead by the time his personal Healer and physician rushed over from the other end of the great hall.

“Must have choked,” the physician said, with deep regret in his voice. “May he rest in peace.”

The Water Tribe Healer sent by the North stood up. “This is very surprising. He was in the best of health just yesterday. But sometimes people die for no reason. For him, it was death by choking.”

They shook their heads and left the Royal Secretariat to wrestle with the intricacies of royal burials.

No one noticed the bruises blooming mauve across Kuei’s back, or the buboes at his groin until much later when some enterprising bureaucrat persuaded the new monarch to order an exhumation of the royal tomb. After all, who would have thought to check, with the cause of death so apparently clear?

* * *

A week later, rumours spread through Ba Sing Se, of men dying in their beds in great agony as they grew bloated with disease.

There were stories of children going to bed as usual, only to be found by distraught parents in the pale light of morning, with no breath in their cold bodies and fear and pain etched into their faces.

There were stories of fevers that burned for days on end, of coughs that did not heal but grew progressively worse until the invalid choked on his own spit, of a group of nobles who had partied late into the night, only to be found dead and cold against the marble floor the next day, blood pooling around their noses.

Ba Sing Se, that ancient capital, was in the throes of a deadly plague. There were more sickbeds than there were healthy citizens. Even the Water Tribe Healers, whose healing skills were held in high repute, could do nothing against the dread disease that seemed to spread ahead of the wind itself. They discussed, practised, and discussed again, but they themselves fell prey to the deadly scour and were no more.

* * *

In time, the news spread to the other cities.

The Fire Lord was besieged with requests for an audience by his Ministers. The Fire Sages and the Council met with Zuko in his office, all in a great haste to make their views known, to have Zuko issue royal edicts at once, to keep the sickness at bay.

“We have to close the port,” said the Minister of the Treasury, drooping moustaches trembling. “It will cost us dearly but we have no choice.”

The Chief Fire Sage nodded. “The sickness is coming. We have to keep it out.”

“But Katara—” Zuko stopped and coughed. He fiddled with the signet ring he wore on his left ring finger. “I mean, the—the Water Tribe Ambassador, she is sailing towards us now. She’ll be able to help with the healing.”

“No,” the Chancellor said. “We cannot take chances. It could be beyond her skill, even.”

The Grand Admiral nodded. “The ship might be—the crew and passengers may all be dead when they sail into port. Or dying. It has happened at other ports. I have the records from other cities.”

Zuko sat up straight. “That cannot be true. Katara is the best healer in our world.”

The Fire Sage coughed into his sleeve. “Be that as it may. We have to protect our people, Your Majesty. And as Your Majesty is aware, the Water Tribe Healers have been unable to heal this sickness thus far.”

Zuko frowned but did not say anything just then, for he had looked out his window and saw a boat appearing. Blue sails, curved prow, a Water Tribe flag flying at the mast.

Katara had finally arrived. 

* * *

At the turn of the eventide, Zuko shed his heavy brocade robe for a plain maroon tunic and matching trousers. He unpinned the gold crown from his hair. His dark hair fell free, sweeping across the bronze and gold threads trailing around his shoulders.

He stepped onto his royal barge and signalled for the sailors to start rowing.

Iroh joined Zuko at the prow. “Are you sure this is wise, Your Majesty?”

“Uncle. I—I have to see her.”

Iroh smiled out at the sea, hands clasped behind his back. “Ah, yes, I know. The perils of young love!”

“Uncle!” Zuko faced Iroh. “Why are you on my boat, anyway?”

“Me? I wish to see Katara too. It has been quite a long while since I last saw her. Her company is delightful. And she is bringing me a few barrels of sea prunes. Mmm.”

“Sea prunes? They’re disgusting.” Zuko grimaced. “Anyway, Uncle, it’s not safe for you out here. You’ve surely heard about the plague—”

“Why? Because I’m old? What’s safe enough for you is safe enough for me, Fire Lord Zuko.”

“That’s not what I meant, Uncle—”

Iroh chuckled and gave Zuko a gentle pat on the back. “I’ll be fine, Zuko. And she’ll be fine. Look, so many ships are being quarantined in your harbour. The plague will be contained sooner rather than later, I think.”

Zuko looked around his barge. There were indeed a multitude of boats and ships docked in the harbour—Fire Nation navy ships returned from duty, flying their colours high; Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom ships anchored near the port, and various civilian and trading vessels which stayed still and silent as the waves lapped against their hulls. And above it all, the bright disc of the moon hanging in the night sky, the protector and symbol of the Waterbenders. 

“Yes,” Zuko said, half-whispering. “She will be fine.”

Iroh grasped Zuko’s elbow and said nothing as they watched the waves go by.

* * *

Katara stood at the prow of her cutter sailing ship. The sea had been choppy that day, and sea spray hung from the sails in a lace-wing pattern, glistening under the gibbous moon.

“Katara!” Zuko shouted across the divide. “Are you—fine? The sickness hasn’t reached you?”

“We’re all well here! You?”

“It hasn’t spread here yet, thank Agni.”

“I’m working on a cure.”

“Of course you are.”

Iroh appeared beside Zuko. “Lady Katara! It warms my heart to see you so hale and hearty.”

“And you too, Uncle Iroh! I have your sea prunes!”

Zuko wrinkled his nose. “I don’t understand this fascination with sea prunes.”

“Pardon the Fire Lord,” Iroh said. “He has little taste. And now, with the knowledge that these delicacies are only a few weeks away, I bid you good night. Have a good conversation with my nephew, Lady Katara. He sorely needs it.”

With a twinkle in his eye, Iroh smiled and left.

“Good night?” Katara said. “Aren’t you returning to the palace tonight?”

“I plan to sail back tomorrow morning.”

“Is that wise?”

Zuko shrugged. “I thought it would be nice to have more time with you.”

“We could.” Katara shook her head. “We could have it. On board. I mean—the plague.”

“You came from Ba Sing Se.” Zuko’s palms clenched around the edge of the railing. “Did you—did you attend Kuei’s banquet? As you said you would?”

“No.” Katara let out a shaky laugh. “No, thankfully not. Something happened and I had to sail early so we were all on board before the banquet. But I was in Ba Sing Se for a while. We don’t know what we might have picked up…”

“Whatever it is,” Zuko said, “I will send the best Healers out to you.”

Katara shot him a strained smile. “You forget that I’m a Healer too.”

“Yes—that.” Zuko scratched the back of his head. “I suppose I did forget.”

“Seems like it’s been a long day for you.”

“Oh you know, politicking, it gets tiring after a while.”

“I know.” Katara’s voice was soft as she leaned against the side of the boat, one palm cupping her cheek. “I’ve missed you these two months.”

In turn, Zuko leaned across the parapet. “I’ve missed you too. Tell me about your travels.”

“Only if you tell me which unfortunate noble lady they’re trying to make you marry now.”

“You know I would never. Never choose one of them, I mean.”

“I still want to hear the stories about the balls and the banquets. Ty Lee said you’d have plenty of good and funny tales.”

Zuko laughed. “You go first.”

Katara started talking about her time in the Earth Kingdom, and so the night whiled by as the stars wheeled overhead.

* * *

The days passed like leaves; slow and soft in the falling, until at the advent of winter the trees were bare against the sky and the leaves were heaped by the roots, a swathe of green turning brown and red. The wind was cooler now, not scorching hot and humid, and the waves rolled grey against the horizon as hulls creaked.

Almost one could imagine the ocean preparing for a long sleep through the winter. Almost.

On his barge, Zuko had come wearing a cloak, now discarded beside him. Katara persevered without one, for she was unafraid of the gentle wind.

“Ten more days to go,” Zuko said. He dipped his brush in the ink well and pressed the tip gently to the paper.

“I’m so glad,” Katara said. “I love the ocean, but I would like to walk on land again. Eat some fire flakes, maybe. Or some roast turtleduck.”

Zuko leaned back in his chair. “You could part the ocean if you chose to do so, and walk across to the port.”

Katara glared at Zuko across the length of water that separated them. “Of course I _could_ , but it’s the principle of it. I would be risking other lives.”

“Always so noble,” Zuko said, shaking his head.

“Stop being so pompous, _Zuzu_.”

Zuko grimaced. “Must you really?”

Katara raised her hands to the heavens. “Well, someone has to put you in your place.” More softly, she asked, “How is she doing?”

Zuko flicked his wrist, brush dancing across paper. “The same. The healers don’t think they can do anything else, not when she doesn’t seem to want to accept their help.”

“I could try—”

Zuko took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Sigh when you speak of Azula. And then you say thank you when someone shows concern for her. Why?”

The brush hovered over the paper as Zuko looked up at Katara. “You know why.”

Katara nodded. “I’ll see her when the quarantine’s over. There are some new techniques the healers and doctors are developing over in Ba Sing Se—you know what happened with that Lake Laogai business. I wish I could have tried it on Jet.”

“Katara—”

“I meant to say that I could try it on Azula.”

Zuko shook his head. “Some people might object.”

“I’ve spoken to Aang, to be honest. He approves of it, and that’s all that’s necessary.” Katara looked up to see Zuko’s glance fixed on her. “I’m sorry. Look, I know I should have discussed this with you first but—”

Zuko laid his brush down and walked to the parapet. “Katara, it’s not that. I just—you care so much.”

In the moonlight, Katara blushed. “I try my best.”

Zuko scratched at his hair. “Did you receive my messenger hawk?”

“Which messenger hawk? You sent me quite a few hawks, Zuko.”

“I sent it a few weeks before Kuei’s banquet. You would have received it around that time,” Zuko said softly.

“What did you say?”

“I sent a package with the hawk.”

“Hmm, yes, I did get that,” Katara said, smiling. “But I haven’t opened the package yet. It came at a bad time, after the whole business with Kuei’s death and the plague.”

“Do you have it with you now?”

“It’s in my cabin. Zuko? Are you alright?”

Zuko wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’s just… the heat.”

“The heat?” Katara frowned. “What heat, Zuko? It’s pretty cooling by Fire Nation standards.”

“It’s probably just—” Zuko drummed his fingers against the wood. “Maybe I’m just a little tired. Long day.”

“Then you should go back to rest.”

“I wanted to spend some time with you.”

“Oh, Zuko.” Katara rested her cheek against her palm as she leaned against the side of the boat. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I could sleep on the boat…”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Punishing yourself, Zuko. You don’t have to.”

Quietly: “It’s not a punishment to see you.”

“It is if you’re missing sleep nearly every single day just to sail here.”

“I get enough sleep on the boat.”

“Not nearly enough,” Katara said. “I can see how tired you look.”

Zuko tried to smile. “That’s because I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Zuko, it’s just ten more days. It’s not a long time; we’ve been apart for longer. Now please go back and get some rest, alright? Or else I’ll bend your sorry ass all the way back to the harbour.”

Zuko raised his hands in surrender. “You win, you win. No need to chase me away.”

Katara put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. “Now off with you!”

Zuko looked over his shoulder. “Captain, back to the Palace!”

The engines stirred.

Zuko remained on the deck, watching Katara grow smaller in the distance as the royal barge crossed the water. Katara stood waving, the moon a silvery disc at her back. He thought he had never seen any sight quite so beautiful.

* * *

At the end of ten days, Zuko was jittery again. He snapped at his servants and even at Iroh when he offered Zuko a steaming cup of tea.

It was a relief to all when Katara’s ship swept into the harbour.

That morning, Zuko stood by the boardwalk with his retinue, and watched as the Water Tribe ship cut its way through the choppy water, bracketed from behind by the rising sun and the low-lying clouds, and at its prow, Katara standing with arms outstretched as she bent the sea to her will, a blur of blue against the dullness of wood and metal.

As the ship drew nearer, and without waiting for the ship to drop anchor, Katara stepped onto a wave and glided across the remaining length of the harbour before stepping onto solid ground.

“Your Majesty,” she said, dropping a small curtsy.

Zuko hurried forward. “Ambassador,” he said, taking her hands in his as he pulled her back into a standing position.

Iroh laughed from where he stood behind Zuko. “Why so serious at this re-union between friends? Or should I say–lovers?”

“Uncle Iroh!” Katara twirled to face the general. “So happy to see you again!”

“As am I, my dear.”

“You look well, Uncle Iroh.”

“I’m blessed in my family,” Iroh said, “and my nephew indulges me when his household steward orders tea leaves. Which reminds me. You must come to the Jasmine Dragon to sample this new leaf I have imported. It's selling well, and the fragrance is heavenly.”

Zuko groaned. “Not now, Uncle!”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Uncle Iroh,” Katara said. “We’ll definitely have to try this new blend, right, Zuko?”

“We absolutely do not have to—”

Katara tapped Zuko’s wrist. “It’s tea, Zuko. Just tea. You might like it if you try it. Otherwise you’d never know, would you?”

“Tea!” Zuko sighed. “It’s always tea—and—leaves—it’s just dried leaf—alright, alright, we do need to visit Uncle’s tea-shop.”

Iroh clasped his palms together, lips quivering above his beard. “I’m so happy to hear that, Nephew. Katara is indeed a good influence.”

Zuko’s cheeks turned red.

“We’ll need a banquet after this dies down,” Iroh declares, striding forward. “Of course, with lots of tea and…”

Zuko let Iroh’s words wash away as he kept pace with Katara. “Will you move into the Palace?”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s not dangerous at all—”

“Zuko.” Katara looked sideways at him. “I’ve thought about it. I’ll be helping with the healing. I shouldn’t be staying in the Palace, not while you’re there. It’s not safe for you, what if I catch it?”

“Katara, don’t be—”

“Don’t be a silly lemur? Trust me, Zuko. I’ve thought about the risks and weighed them against the benefits of staying in the Palace.”

“It’s not just about the benefits.”

“Getting to see you every single day would be a benefit,” Katara whispered. “But not sensible, given this plague. Listen to the healer, alright, Zuko?”

Zuko nodded. “But only for as long as necessary.”

“I promise.” Katara smiled and pressed her palm into his shoulder.

* * *

Two months later, in the deep of winter, Zuko pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders and marched into Katara’s cabin.

“You’re early today.” Katara looked up as she lifted her hands from the brazier and caught sight of Zuko’s face. “Everything’s alright?”

“Fine,” he said.

“You look like a corpse, and Tui knows I’ve seen enough of those recently. Some of them looked merrier than you do.”

Zuko clenched his teeth and shrugged. Truth to be told he could barely bring himself to speak, did not trust himself to speak just yet.

“What’s wrong?” Katara said. She walked to Zuko and nudged him into a chair. “The Chancellor said something nasty about Azula again?”

“No.”

“You’re behaving really strangely today.”

Zuko took a deep breath. “Do you have that last parcel I sent by messenger hawk?”

Katara glanced at her dressing table. “Yes, it’s there. I haven’t opened it yet though, haven’t had the time.”

“Let’s open it together.”

“Together?” Katara picked up the parcel. “That’s fine with me.”

“Here, let me do that.” Zuko reached his fingers around the nearest corner of the parcel and drew it away from Katara. He pulled at the string, fingers trembling and fumbling, and yet the knot did not come undone.

Katara leaned over, her hair loops dangling against his arm. “I’ll help you.”

“No, it’s fine,” Zuko said, shaking Katara’s hands off. “I’ve got it.”

“No you—oh.”

Zuko held the undone string up triumphantly and flashed a grin at Katara. For a moment, he looked like his younger self, before the heavy burdens of crown and throne weighed down his eyes and his smile.

For a moment, Katara recalled green fields stretching as far as the eye could see, the sun bright overhead at noon, and falcons wheeling through the air, the sweet scent of the flowers blooming pink and mauve through the sea of green. Zuko had been laughing then, his hair whipping about his face, his sleeves flapping against his body, and he had called her name…

“Katara!”

Katara shook the vision away and blinked back to reality. Zuko stood next to her, his mouth in a tight line, and in his hands his offering.

“What’s this?” she said.

Zuko held it up. A necklace, carved in gold and red, a blue pendant glittering at the centre. “It’ll look beautiful on you,” he said.

Katara stared at the necklace and then stared at Zuko. “Is this a gift? For me?”

Zuko nodded. “A gift for you.” He reached over and swept her hair to the side before clasping the necklace around her neck.

“Zuko, I can’t—” Katara’s eyes widened. “Wait. Are you—are you?”

“Yes.” Zuko drew Katara’s hands into his own. He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “I’ve wanted to ask this for a very long time. Will you marry me, Karara? I want to spend every day with you, and wake up every morning with you by my side. I know it’s a lot to ask—you won’t be able to live in the South anymore, and you won’t get to travel on healing missions, and the Fire Lady crown is a heavy one, maybe I'm asking too much? But I really—I cannot imagine living without you any longer.”

“I’m flattered,” Katara said, touching the necklace. The pendant sat squarely in the hollow of her neck, as if moulded to her shape. “And my answer is yes.”

“Really?” Zuko said, a tremor in his voice. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Katara nodded, beaming, as she entwined her fingers with his; both calloused, they fit well together, her hands warm in his larger ones. “Did you think I’d say no?”

Zuko nearly couldn’t bring himself to answer. “I had nightmares,” he said, looking at his feet. “But now—”

Zuko leaned over and pressed his lips against Katara’s. She was warm in his embrace, her skin so soft, her hair curling over his arm. He broke the kiss. “I love you,” he said again.

As if on cue, fireworks went up in the slice of sky framed by the cabin window. Katara pulled Zuko over with her, watching the pulsing sprays of yellows and reds, greens and blues and whites dancing across the night sky.

“How beautiful,” she said.

“Uncle sourced them.”

“Did you tell him you were going to ask me to marry you?”

“Yes, he knew. But I didn’t think he’d get the timing so perfectly.”

Katara brought her fingers up to Zuko’s jaw, tracing the outline of his bones. “Thank you, Zuko.”

Zuko’s only response was to slide his arms around Katara’s waist, pulling her closer to him. His arms around her, his nose in her hair, her face nuzzled against his neck: this was it, he thought. This was perfection, this was bliss in the small moments. This was what he had been waiting for, the gateway to a lifetime of happiness, the end of waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> First started writing this fic about 2 years ago and only had time to finish it recently. I got the idea for this fic when I found out that the word quarantine is derived from the Italian word "quaranta giorni", meaning 40 days, from Dan Brown's Inferno of all things. In any case, given the current state of the pandemic, please do stay safe!
> 
> The title is from Lisa Olstein's poem Dear One Absent This Long While, the contents of which are pretty apt in this case given that Katara and Zuko are essentially in a LDR here.


End file.
